


A Promise and Eggos

by she_who_the_river_could_not_hold



Series: The Cabin Series [2]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-13
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-03-30 15:46:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13954839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/she_who_the_river_could_not_hold/pseuds/she_who_the_river_could_not_hold
Summary: After messing up and revealing to Eleven that he's the one that turned her in, Hopper knows he needs to fix this. A couple day's later he's at the grocery store when he runs into Mrs. Wheeler, who is trying to return the boxes of Eggos that Mike now refuses to eat, giving him a new idea on how to reach out to Eleven.





	A Promise and Eggos

The people of Hawkins were nosy at times, it being a small town and all, but luckily no one had seemed to have picked up on the fact that Jim Hopper was subtly doubling his groceries.

He was pretty sure he had never even made a shopping list before, and he’d admit that he probably still doesn’t write real ones, but it feels like a twisted feeling of deja vu as he goes through the motions of picking up extra food. It’s not that he can’t remember picking up extra food. On the contrary he remembers it perfectly - the last grocery trip before it felt like they had permanently moved into the hospital.

But that isn’t his life anymore. He’s shopping for a young girl again, but this one happens to be a telekinetic pre-teen who currently despised him after learning he had traded her for the lives of the boys who had saved her life.

He glances back down at the half torn piece of paper, crumpled in his grip. 

  1. Breakfast
  2. Lunch
  3. Dinner



Maybe he had a couple too many frozen dinners, but he figured it was otherwise okay. And it was still early, he hadn’t figured out what all she liked yet.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he was startled by a harried, “Oh hi Jim.”

His gaze jerked back to reality and saw a frazzled Karen Wheeler in front of him in line. He nods his head as a greeting and tries to bite his tongue. Keeping secrets isn’t hard for him but he also can’t shake her son’s expression from his mind from that night. So there’s that.

“Hey Karen,” he finally says, his voice coming out gruffer than he had initially intended. 

Damn that Wheeler kid for having more heart in middle school body than anyone else in this town. 

Karen however doesn’t seem to notice his tone and gestures to her basket at her waist.  

“It’s crazy, I hadn’t even planned on coming in this morning but I want to see if I can return these. A month ago, it’s all Michael could eat. But now I catch him trying to throw away whole ones as if I can’t see him! I figure it’s a waste to hold onto them so I decided…”

Hopper slowly tunes her out as he stares deeply down into the basket. 

Eggos. Boxes and boxes of Eggos.

He’s suddenly back in the middle school, watching over the kids from afar as lights and sirens echo through the night, drawing closer to the middle school. In his short experience, these were the kids that never shut up. Kids that would normally be blabbering on about how everything they had just experienced came straight from the pages of the comic books they read. But tonight that wasn’t the case. That night though they sat in shocked silence. Stunned into wordlessly sitting shoulder-to-shoulder on the curb.

The clearest part of his memory was seeing Mike Wheeler’s tear-stained face, his gaze lost as he looked out ahead of himself. He looked like he was in a different world.

“I had promised her a bed. I had promised her Eggos. I had promised her –” Mike’s whispering had been cut off by the arrival of the ambulances, followed by the frantic arrival of parents and he had been swept into his mother’s arms.

But the words he had been repeating, the promises he had made, rang through Hopper’s head.

A bed.

Eggos.

And apparently other things, but the first two were feasible.

And so began him leaving Eggos out in a small box in the woods, hoping that it would be enough of a sign if she ever showed up that someone was looking after her. Until one day when he went to replenish it, she had been there. Scared, smaller than he remembered. He hadn’t thought about the Eggos since then. And since the other day he couldn’t think of anything else other than repairing the broken trust between them.

Now he was staring down into the basket of the one and only Karen Wheeler, and it was filled with unopened boxes of Eggos.

“I’ll take them off of your hands,” he blurts out, not even sure how long he’s been lost in thought.

Karen’s eyebrows shoot up, glancing between Hopper and the bored teenager who was about to take the first box.

“I’ll take them,” he repeats, praying to whatever supposed god was out there that he didn’t sound too desperate.

Karen still hasn’t said anything, looking confused at best, so Hopper looks to the cashier.

“How much do these things cost again?” He’s already yanking out his wallet from his back pocket. The kid shrugs, clearly trying to just get through the day.

Hopper flips through the bills and pulls out a twenty.

Rounding back to face Karen, he holds out the money.

“Here.”

“Oh, Jim that’s too much,” she says hesitantly, still clearly trying to connect the dots as to why it’s so urgent for him.

He doesn’t move his outreached hand though, so she reluctantly takes the money and the two of them transfer the Eggos from her basket to his. The next twenty minutes is a weird blur for Hopper as he waves goodbye to Karen and then anxiously waits for the damn teenager to hurry checking everything out. He then practically speeds back to the cabin, thankful for the ‘Hawkins Police’ text slapped on the side of his car.

The cabin is still quiet when he gets back.

He had expected it. Mainly due to how early he had gone to the grocery store, but also since… well the cabin had been quiet ever since that dinner.

But he pushes those memories aside, quickly moving to clear shit out of the freezer. Ancient frozen dinners he had forgotten about. A half-opened carton of ice cream covered in freezer burn. Corn that had been chucked in their god knows how long ago.

In minutes though the freezer is stocked up entirely on boxes of Eggos.

Except for one, which he’s kept out on the counter.

He first goes over to the record player, dusted off entirely from those first days of cleaning. He picks one he’s seen her dance slowly to while she’s sweeping, unaware that he’s watching. The music crackles to life as the record begins to spin. Then he goes back to the counter and begins the process of toasting the semi-frozen waffles. His little toaster only does two at a time, and he’s not sure how hungry she is (she hasn’t eaten a full meal in two days), so he ends up making six total. Three for him, three for her.

Thankfully he scrounges up some syrup from deep in his cupboards and soon enough, he has a full display on the dining table (it’s looking a bit simple, so he quickly adds two glasses of chocolate milk).

It’s probably the worst dinner, but it’s not like he’s aiming for any type of dad of the year award.

_That thought is odd to him but he shakes it off, it’s just a phrase. He’s not trying to be her dad. He’s just helping take care of her for a while._

That was the easy part though. Now he has to knock on her bedroom door.

When he does, there’s a prolonged silence that follows. An agonizing moment that feels like a lifetime but in reality he admits was only a minute. But with a creak, her door slowly opens.

Her hair is a mess of curls, tangled all around her head and the bags under her eyes seem to have returned, even after all of his previous work. But this time, her expression has a hint of curiosity instead of the betrayed, despondent look she had been sporting every time she had briefly emerged. She glances past him at the record player and then back at him.

“I uh, I made us some dinner,” Hopper began, finding himself strangely quiet.

She nods and follows him out, unable to hide the small squeal of glee that escapes her when she sees the stacks of Eggos. Her face turns to him, now a full-blown expression of confusion.

“Is it a celebration? With the music and Eggos,” her voice is cautious, but optimistic. He takes it as a good sign that she’s not going to bolt back to her room.

“Hopefully,” he admits, nervously running his hand through his beard before sighing. Turning fully to face her, he squats slightly so that they’re at eye level.

“I want to start over. I know I messed up the other night, and I know I messed up back then when I turned you in. But that’s in our past, and the only way I can help you is if we move past it all. What do you say El?”

A moment of hesitation as her eyes trace his face, looking no doubt for some type of lie or deception. She sees the earnestness in him though and a small smile begins to slowly grow on her face.

“Promise?” She asks softly.

“Promise,” he confirms.

El full on smiles then, moving past him to sit down at the table. She patiently waits to eat, though it does look like she used up over half of the syrup on her waffles. As he goes to sit, Hopper unconsciously ruffles her curls. The two of them look at each other, almost startled at the action. At how natural it felt.

El simply smile again and goes back to pouring the syrup and Hopper takes his seat.

Things were beginning to look up after all.


End file.
